


Byssus

by Hazzardous_Lemurs



Series: Weave the Crimson Web [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Arlathan, Black Emporium, Crossroads, Earth, Fate, Helplessness, Mental Health Issues, Nordic Mythology - Freeform, Orb, Other, Panic Attacks, Sisters, Survival, Thedas, Xenon the Antiquarian - Freeform, eluvian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-04-06 20:57:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazzardous_Lemurs/pseuds/Hazzardous_Lemurs
Summary: The cursive script, looped and whorled, laying out the words in neat lines.“It is in your moments of decision, that your destiny is shaped.” She read out to her sisters. “What is that meant to mean?” she groaned.





	1. Cat

The scent of old books and oiled timber surrounded her, as she walked through the wood panelled corridors of the faculty. Elde ran her long fingers over the grooves of the wood, wondering how many people had done this before her, connecting herself to that long line of academics. Her boots clomped gently against the polished floors, as she headed towards the artefact room. 

Her university was small, specialising in a few high-profile schools. It still maintained a small presence of other faculties, however, the lack of resources and funding clearly indicated their position within the university. Pushing her way through the heavy doors of the artefact room, it was clear with the peeling paint, and the miss matched furniture, that her faculty was not one of the ‘high-profile’ schools. Even with the lack of funds, her team was still producing ground breaking research.

Dumping her oversized handbag on the old desk, she dragged out her laptop, and several leather-bound notebooks. Organising her work space for maximum efficiency, she always left room for the faculty cat to perch on the corner. The mangy stray had heard Elde’s steps in the hallway, and had snuck out of a closet bounding its way over to the familiar woman. “Mrraow?” its yellow eyes implored Elde. “Well hello there, Miaowlessa. Are you hungry?”

Opening up a small Tupperware container, the smell of dried cat biscuits made the black cat hastily jump up on her table to take its usual place. “I’m gonna miss you puss,” she ran her hand down the soft fur as the cat ate. “Maybe I should take you with me. No one else seems to feed you.” The cat continued to eat, ignoring the woman. “And I don’t think you really like anyone else.” The eating noises stopped, the cat looking back to Elde. “Mrrrow,” it seemed to agree. The woman leaned back in her chair and played with her dyed silver hair. “Should I go?”

The mysterious appearance of a dozen or so, extremely large and ornate mirrors had captured the attention of researchers across the world for the last decade. Elde was in her final years of her undergraduate degree when her Professor had asked her to accompany him on a dig. It was there she came face to face with a much larger replica of the mirror that had haunted her childhood. Recognising the familiarity, the woman had with the mirror, the Professor pushed her into a career of research. And, if Elde was being honest, it was perfect for her. Hiding in the bowels of the faculty building, she was left alone with her research, the cat that had adopted her, and the coffee maker. Elde could go days without having to converse with anyone. Her Professor, confident that she would fulfil her duties to her role with ease.

Pushing her cats eye glasses back up the bridge of her nose, she reached over and grabbed the ‘letters of offer’ that had been sent to her. There were five job offers. Five universities, from around the world, that wanted her. “Me,” she whispered in astonishment. “I’m not that special, why would they want me?” Her question could not be further from the truth. Elde was the only person in the world that had managed to decode the enigmatic script that adorned the frames of the mirrors. Decoding the language was a different matter though.

“What am I going to do Miaowlessa?” she appealed to the small cat. “They want me to be the spokesperson. What the hell do I know about talking to people?” her voice taking on a desperate key. “I don’t like being around people, you know this,” the cat responding with a bored yawn. Throwing her hands up in defeat, “I just don’t know, I don’t know what I should do.”

The Professor had been quietly observing the woman from the door, saddened that she could not see the potential she held within herself. Her fear of standing out paralysing her ability to make decisions. She won’t like this, he thought, but it is for the best.

“Good morning, Elde,” his gruff voice rumbling around the small room. Elde startled, and swivelled to face the aging man. “Professor! I didn’t see you come in,” she began to fuss around her table to make room. “Here,” she jumped off her seat, “Sit, I’ll just find another seat.” The Professor smiled kindly, and guided her back to her own chair. “Sit, dear girl. The chair is here, where it always is.” He pulled out a simple wooden chair from under a table covered in old books. Twirling it to face the desk, he sat.

Elde was shaking in her seat. While her Professor was welcome, she was unused to his presence in her space. Unsure of protocol, she waited quietly, wringing her hands. “Elde,” the Professor began, his tone formal. “I am sorry, but the faculty has had its funding cut back.” The lie for the benefit for the woman in front of him. He shook his head, hoping that his face conveyed his sorrow. “We can no longer fund your position here at the university.”

She had been staring at the desk, when her eyes darted up to face his. “You’re letting me go?” she stammered. “Yes, unfortunately,” he said. “Your position will end in two weeks.” Elde blinked, disbelieving her Professor. “How, Why? In the staff meeting the dean said our positions were guaranteed for this year?” The Professor reached over and patted her hand paternally. “I know my dear, but we feel that it is time for you to move on. So, your position has been made redundant.”

Elde was silent as the Professor explained the reality of her leaving. She would be paid out a hefty severance package, and any research she had been completing would follow her to which ever university she had chosen. The old man stood up, and smiled at her. “It seems like the end of the world now, Elde, but really, it is just you becoming what you should become. Take a chance.” He left a small card on her desk as he left.

The woman let her tears flow, her world was collapsing. Become who I should become, the parting gift tumbled through her mind. Take a chance, he said. “Last time I took a chance I…” she shuddered at the memory of Mrs Whitby and the long black horse whip. “I can’t,” she whispered at the cat. “I can’t. I’m not good enough for these universities.” Through her sobs her unconsciousness reaching a truth she would never admit.

“I can’t leave mother.” 


	2. Hesitate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello My Lovelies,
> 
> This story is part of three, each following one of the sisters from the prologue.
> 
> The stories are dependent and independent of each other. I am playing around with time and fate, so what happens in one story may be undone in another. There are common themes and signposts in each story, but each sister will have different skills, hurdles, and powers that will be needed.
> 
> Hopefully it works.
> 
> Posting will be one story, once a week. So if you are following one story, new chapters will be every three weeks.

* * *

 

Her hands were clammy as they held the controller. The fate of the Grey Wardens was a simple press of a button away. Morrigan had been waiting while siting on the bed. Her face was frozen in a hopeful smile, for a good five minutes now, as Elde dithered over her choice.

“Damnit Elde, do a pencil drop if you can’t decide,” Mirrin called out from the dining room. The white-haired woman grabbed a cheap biro and a scrap bit of paper. Folding the page in half, and writing one and two on each side, she held the pen above. Closing her eyes, she dropped it. Landing ink side down, the mark was clear.

She would not do the ritual with Morrigan.

“I see. There is, of course, another option,” the witch’s husky voice proffered.

Looking over to her other sister, Elde could see the shit-eating-grin that was covering Tayce’s face. Panic set over her, as the sequence played out. Her eldest sister, shaking her head, though still smiling. “Careful Elde, this will effect everything,” she warned.

The middle child frowned and turned her attention back on the game, carefully choosing her responses.

“Wow, be killed by the archdemon or sleep with Morrigan. How does someone make that kind of choice?” the young king bewildered at the suggestion. “What kind of ritual is this, anyway?”

Thinking being honest is the best way through, Elde chose to tell Alistair all about the child.

“WHAT?!? I… I must be hearing things, but are you telling me to impregnate Morrigan in some kind of magical sex rite!?!” bewilderment turning to alarm.

Her poor Alibear. She could not force this upon him. Besides, Riordan was there. He would take the final blow.

Clicking response 4, her relief matched Alistair’s. “Thank the Maker. You can’t imagine how relieved I am to hear you say that!”

The quest played out to its natural conclusion. Morrigan leaving in the dead of night.

The Arl of Redcliffe’s deep, commanding voice, reverberated through the five-point speakers. Excitement and anticipation building, the final battle finally here.

And then it was done.

The archdemon was dead.

Her warden was alive.

 

“What!” she screamed. “No! Not again damnit!”

Tayce fell into a pile of giggles. “I told you not to do a pen drop the first time, Eldie,” she chastised. “You have to make a decision, not leave it up to chance.”

“But I couldn’t,” she bemoaned. “It was too important, and I didn’t know what the best choice would be.” Hiding her head in her hands, the woman started to pack the console up. “I’m done,” she growled. “I can never get these things right,” gathering up her purse and keys. Throwing the offending items in her bag, a small card fluttered out, landing on the floor.

Picking it up, the woman turned it over several times. It was a pure white card, small enough to fit in her palm. Recognising the script, she remembered the card her Professor had given her the other day.

The cursive script, looped and whorled, laying out the words in neat lines.

“It is in your moments of decision, that your destiny is shaped.” She read out to her sisters. “What is that meant to mean,” she groaned.

“Quite simple,” said Mirrin. “Your fate is the culmination of your choices. Change your choice, change your fate.” It took everything Elde had in her not to roll her eyes at her little sister. Her oldest sister did not have as much self-control, “So you are doomed to have a life not your own, because your choices are not yours?” Tayce’s words cutting to the core of their little sisters’ life.

“I have choice,” she carefully returned. “I am choosing where everyone sits.” Mirrin gestured at the elaborate seating plan she was working on for her wedding. Tayce looked at Elde, “Five bucks the plan is thrown out tomorrow by Mother.” The white-haired sister was not so scathing, but she knew a loosing bet when she saw one.

“Come on Eldie,” Tayce placated. “Let’s have some lunch, and begin another game after. Begrudgingly, she allowed her sister to direct her to the kitchen.

“Do you believe that?” Elde questioned the ombre haired woman. A single eyebrow raised seeking clarification. “What the card said about decisions and fate.” Tayce stopped preparing the meal, and turned towards her sister. She had a sad smile plastered on her face. “Eldie, for as long as I have known you, you have never made a decision that would affect your life. You have always allowed other people to make them for you.”

Frowning, she considered her sister. “So, you are saying I am no different to Mirrin?”

Tayce answered. “No, you are different in that you live your own life, but when it comes to a big decision, you step back and wait until either others make it for you, or you have no choice left. Mirrin has no choice either way.”

“Hey, I heard that!” the youngest sister called out from the dining room. Ignoring her, Elde opened her mouth to answer, and closed it again.

“See, you did it again,” her sister pointed out. Confusion washed over her. “You were going to say something, but didn’t.”

“I didn’t have anything to say,” countered the middle child.

“Yes, you did, you were just too afraid of not knowing the outcomes to actually say it.”

“That’s not true,” she tried to argue.

“Yes, it is,” her stubborn sister said. Sighing, Tayce turned back to the fridge, dragging out several containers. “Look Eldie, for as long as I have known you, you have tried to stay out of the spotlight. That included making decisions that would have an impact.”

Dumping the boxes on the table, she reached over and grabbed a loaf of bread. “Don’t you think it is time to see what would happen?”

“What would happen when?” Elde inquired, not following Tayce’s train of thought.

“To make a choice and stick with it, to hell with the consequences!” exasperated, her sister explained.

“Damnit Elde, you are smart and pretty. Don’t you think it is time for you to come out of your rock and live your own life. Make your own decisions. Craft your own fate?” her sister was almost shouting now.

“Bad things happen, when I make decisions,” Elde all but whispered. Her sister gave a knowing look at her. “I know what happened when we were kids, Eldie. But we are adults now. It is time to stop looking over our shoulder for acceptance that is never going to come.”


	3. Arrive

The damn cat had twisted itself out of her grasp for the third time, and was now scampering back the way they had come. Elde had discarded the cat carrier at the stairs. It was cumbersome, and was only getting bashed up as the pair dodged and weaved through the steel archive stalls. She had managed to corner the feisty feline in a corner, but the thing had just scrambled up the yellowing canvas. She had lost sight of the black blur when it had reached to top.

“Ugh!” she gave a disgruntled noise for the umpteenth time since they began this ludicrous game of cat and mouse.

It was futile giving chase at the moment. The cat, out of sight, could be anywhere. Retrieving the cat carrier, she plonked down on a wooden crate, and waited for the beast to come to her.

It was still early, in her final day. She had wanted to make sure the Miaowlessa of Kittenmarsh was securely housed in her cat carrier, well before her day ended. However, the feisty feline had dragged her on a wild goose chase all over the faculty building. And this is how they ended up in the bowels of the archives.

Above them, all of Elde’s belongings were housed in six cardboard boxes, neatly stacked in her office. Her room, was being filled up with unwanted furniture, well before her two weeks were up. “Just to make it clear,” she huffed when the first acne faced kid had dragged a stack of chairs in.

Above, the long fluorescent tubes hummed, their harsh white light beaming down on the aging wooden crates. Canvas and cardboard covered the artefacts lying on the metal shelves. A century worth of collectibles in one box alone. “Where did they get all this stuff from?” Elde threw the question out there. In all her years, she had never seen anyone access the numerous boxes stored in the basement archives.

A quiet miaow, and a soft scurry of footpads told the woman that the cat was close. Feathery black fur slipped over her legs. “Oh!” Looking down at the moggie, she was ready to launch into a diatribe of scolding. “Mrrraow!” Elde was interrupted before she could even begin. The cat began to run away again. “UGH!”

But it stopped. Turned back to the woman, and… “MRAOW!”

Elde slowly got off the crate, and walked over to the cat. Reaching down to pick it up, it scampered off again, stopping just out of reach. Watching the human with consternation, yellow eyes watched until satisfied the human had followed.

“Bloody hell cat, you’re not making this easy!”

The cat replied with a hiss and stubborn miaow. “Ok, I’m coming.”

The cat had taken her further into the archives. Far from the stairs. Far from elevator. Far from the phone. Down, they went, past years and years of collections. Books, furniture, things best not identified.

Until the cat came to a stop.

Elde stopped too. Not because the cat stopped, but because of the mirror.

A large, ornate mirror, much like her mother’s.

The frame was gilt gold, with an inlay of a silver script. The face of the mirror was not the mottled, hazy glass, like that of her mother’s. Instead it was completely clear. Almost transparent. Not reflective, at all, but not broken either.

She stepped slowly up to the glass, running her fingers over the silvery blue of the words. A gently thrum of power emanated from them, causing Elde to pull her hand back. Inspecting the script, she was dumbfounded when she found that she could read it. Forming the words, her voice rang clear in the empty space, until the final word fell silent.

The mirror shimmered.

Something was on the other side.

And then it pushed through.

The tiniest polar bear Elde had ever seen.

The creature stood before the mirror and sniffed at the human and cat. Huffing it turned back around the exited through the mirror.

Miaowlessa, not wanting to miss the adventure, leapt through the mirror after the mini-bear.

“NO!” shouted the woman. “Come back!”

For several minutes the woman waited. The mirror remained as it was.

The choice clear.

“Oh, fuck it,” and she jumped through after the small black cat.

 

Something cleared their throat, “Hngh, Hmmmmmm, ohhhhhhrrrrr.”

Blinking at the low light, Elde was having trouble adjusting. Pushing her glasses back up her nose, her eyes narrowed at the figure in the centre of the room.

“A customer!”

The wooden chair had sunk into the platform. Hunks of timber broken off over the years, gave a jagged edge to the greying artefact. Sitting on the seat… she looked again. Merged into the seat, “Ew,” she muttered quietly, was a creature. Several legs and arms were poking out of the organic mass in the middle. A book, ancient and yet still whole, hovered within grasp of the creature.

“Thadeus, stand up straight. Places everyone.”

Elde took a tentative step towards the thing. “Welcome to the Black Emporium,” the being greeted.

“Er… thanks,” the woman offered, her eyes flitting from one unfamiliar scene to another.

Behind her the mirror faded into a motley shimmer, becoming solid once more.

“Um, I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said as politely as she could manage, “But have you seen my cat?”

“Your cat,” the voice emanated out from the organic mass, “Cat, cat, cat. Thadeus have you seen a cat?” The golem was not making a movement. “Ah yes, of course,” the being said. “The Miaowlessa of Kittenmarsh, if I am not mistaken.”

Elde switched from staring at the being to the golem. How did they know about Miaowlessa?

The voice began to laugh. “I am sorry child, we seem to have startled you. Let us begin at the beginning. I am Xenon the Antiquarian. And you are Elde Norn, yes?”

The woman stared, her head beginning to nod on its own.

“Of course, you are,” Xenon bellowed. “We have been expecting you.”

An urchin took her shaking hand, leading her to a nicely appointed sitting area.

“Thank you,” Elde managed to stutter.

“Hush, hush,” the voice surrounded her. “You won’t be saying that soon,” his laugh neither evil nor friendly. “Welcome, Elde Norn, the second born, and last to arrive.”


	4. Tea

Picking the fine bone china cup up from its saucer, Elde let the heat of the tea burn as she held the fragrant liquid in her mouth. At least that felt real, her mind grasping the pain to ground herself. It was a pleasant afternoon tea, Xenon had prepared for her. A combination of jasmine, ginger and cinnamon, for the tea, and a plate of petit fours and small sandwiches. It was as if he knew she would be visiting. The sitting area was the only space in the Dark Emporium that had been thoroughly cleaned. A new carpet lay on the aging wooden planks, and a small settee with matching armchairs circled an ornate wooden coffee table. A crystal vase full of lilies sat on a nearby side table finalised the quaint setting.

“So…” she started, pushing her glasses back up her nose. “What do you mean, last to arrive?”

If the creature in the centre of the room could move its face, Elde was sure that he was wearing a smirk. “Exactly that, you are the last to arrive.”

“That is very non-descript,” she countered.

Xenon laughed, his deep eerie chuckle reverberating around the damp support beams overhead. Elde shuffled in the pastel striped chair. As beautiful as the seat was, it did not cater to comfort.

The creature snuffled, hemming and hawing over what to divulge next to the woman. “Your, ah… sisters. Yes, that’s it, sisters. Your sisters came with you.”

Elde frowned, her sisters were here in Thedas? “Where are they?”

If Xenon could move, she was sure he was waving a dismissive hand her way. “Where? No, my dear, the question is when.”

When? What was the antiquarian talking about? Elde tilted her head to appraise the former man. Fixing him with her trade mark black stare, “When were they here?”

Xenon chuckled, “Were? No, my dear there is nothing about the past with your sisters. They are here at the same time as you are.”

The white-haired woman sighed, “I just asked you where, Xenon.”

“And yet, you are not listening,” he countered.

The mummified skin of his being, glistened with condensed moisture. “I said when, not where.”

Standing up, in a rare display of frustration, Elde raised her voice. “Damnit, Xenon. Give me a straight answer!”

“Now, now missy. You just need to think with that logical mind of yours. Yes? You pride yourself with logic, so use it.”

The tea cups rattled gently on their saucers, as Elde returned to the armchair.

“Fine,” her voice steely. “You said when, so they are in Thedas at different times.”

The living corpse made an affirmative grunt. “But you also said they came with me? How can that be?”

“Ah, now she gets it.”

Elde shook her head at the living thing. “But that is impossible. Time is linear. You can’t have two times at once.”

“And you also can’t be drawn into a fictional computer game. And yet here you are,” he snarked.

The woman blinked. Her face passive, computing the illogical information that was before her. Her brow furrowed in concentration, her mind following the logical progression of thoughts.

Standing, her long black lace dress fluttered around her legs. Her black Docs, clumped against the damp wooden planks as she stalked over to Xenon. Standing in front of the creature, she pushed her arm wraps up her arms, smoothing out the wrinkles.

“We came to Thedas at the same time, on Earth.” She began to voice her thoughts. Her eyes flitting over a black space as if reading a theorem written on an invisible whiteboard, she continued. “But was pulled to different times in Thedas.” Taking a quick glance at Xenon, she did not wait for an answer to continue her thoughts. “So, we are here, together, just not at the same time. It’s like…” Her mind searched for an appropriate analogy.

In a corner of the circular haven, a loom sat. Mouldy and dank, it’s threads frayed and broken with time. An unfinished tapestry pulled tight over the frame held the promise of… something. Running her finger over the muted design, she smiled. “It’s like… the Norns,” she whispered. The pages of Nordic mythology she had once read returned to her, as she sifted through her mind for information about the witches of time and fate.

The breaking of wood, and the thud of boots alerted Elde and Xenon to the intruders now progressing up the rickety hall way.

“Bring it down! All of it!” a commanding voice echoed around the sanctuary.

“You must go!” hissed the creature.

The woman meant to argue, but she was stopped by his next words.

“Your sister will fix Kirkwall. Go now!”

Thadeus clumped over to an Eluvian. Its mottled face suddenly glowing blue.

Elde glanced around the emporium, searching for her cat. A hurried miaow, alerted her to the fact that the Miaowlessa was already at the mirror. Taking one last look towards the corridor, she could see the glint of Templar armour. Grabbing a nearby bag and several weapons, she ran for the Eluvian, and didn’t stop until she was on the other side. The ungodly squelch of blades on flesh, and Xenon’s laughter still echoing in her ears.


	5. Crossroads

The sounds of destruction stilled, as the Eluvian closed. Its glowing blue face giving way to the normal mottled darkness.

They were surrounded by silence.

Well, it would have been, except for the Miaowlessa of Kittenmarsh’s loud purr.

Her sleek black body made ripples in the black lace dress of the woman as she slipped under the fabric to rub her soft fur against her person’s trembling legs. The cat could tell the woman was scared. Elde's movements were erratic. Her shoulder length white hair whipped around her face as her eyes frantically searched the new landscape.

 _This will take a while_ , the cat huffed.

Taking up a position on the base of a nearby statue, the cat sat, staring at her human. _You can almost see her think_.

Feet rooted to the same spot, Elde’s eyes were scanning the landscape. Each detail was meticulously analysed and stored away for future consideration. When something required further deliberation, her light grey eyes stared at the object. The woman’s face growing passive, not a flicker of movement registered on the slightly impish square jaw.

“Where are we?” whispered the woman pushing her glasses back up her nose.

The cat looked up at the human. Its large yellow eyes appraising the woman before her.

She had always liked Elde. The human was much nicer than the stuffy old men. The woman had given her fish to eat, a cosy bed to sleep in, and always scratched her in the place she loved best. (Behind her ears, travelling down her spine to her tail. Miaowlessa started purring at the memory).

A glimmer of colours raced across the ground, dragging the woman’s attention from the statue Miaowlessa was currently making her seat, to the horizon.

The cat considered itself rather knowing when it came to humans. Living among them at the university, the feline was well versed in the different tribes of people. Often seeing the metamorphic transformations of the young ones once they had left the relative safety of their parents. Her human was no different. The woman had changed a lot since coming to her university. At the beginning she was a mousy blonde, with big black glasses, and clothed in sensible slacks and blouses. Over time, she had changed her look. Her hair was now a silvery white. She still had thick black glasses, but they now were of a better quality, suiting her face and hair. The cat flicked at the dress with its long tail. Elde’s clothes were the most striking change of all. Gone were the sensible librarian get up, and in was the dark mori witch look.

The Miaowlessa of Kittenmarsh approved, but she knew Elde’s mother did not. Privy to the woman’s vocalised thoughts, the cat knew more about Elde than any other.

An exhale of breath alerted the cat that the woman had made a decision. Readjusting the bag and weapons Elde scanned the area one more time. Taking one step, the crunch of dirt underneath her boots signalled that the pair were to begin moving. The cat darted away from her legs and dawdled next to her.

 _Finally_ , the feline mused, _a decision has been made_.

 

 _I must be in the Crossroads_ , considered Elde. She scanned the area and saw row upon row of pathways and mirrors. Dotted throughout were those weird sphere-shaped metal trees. _God, I hope I don’t have to do a puzzle with those things_ , she cursed internally.

Guiding the pair tentatively along a path, the woman still scanned the area for familiarity. Something that would indicate the right choice. Staring up at the velvet sky, she asked for guidance. In response a myriad of colours danced across the star lit night. Their hues merging into an aurora that melted across the mirrors and trees, flecks of colour reflected in the smooth stones of the paths.

She frowned at the enchanting display. _Strange, I thought the Crossroads were dull for humans_.

Feeling the heavy bag slip from her shoulder, she tore her eyes from the display. Heaving the bag back up her shoulder, she sighed. “Which one, which one,” she whispered. “I wonder if this will be like the portals in The Witcher,” she moaned to the cat. The cat blinked, oblivious to the context. “God, I hope not, they ended up under the sea at one point.”

 

Mirror. Mirror. Mirror. The pair trudged along the stone lined paths, for what seemed like hours. The beauty of symmetry was beginning to feel like a cage. Flicking its tail in defined movements, the cat signalled its decaying mood.

 _I should bite her ankles_ , it thought. _Choose a mirror_!

 

Elde looked at the howling cat. “What? What’s wrong?”  The cat just stared at her. “Just pick one?” The black creature padded over to the nearest mirror and looked back at the human. “This one? Why this one, it could be the wrong one.”

If cats could roll their eyes, the woman was sure it just did it. “Ok fine, lets go.” She slowly walked to the mirror. “Why this one?” she said out loud.

The mirror was no different to any of the others. Except for the scurry of foot prints left in the surrounding layers of dust. Not knowing if they were recent or ancient, Elde lowered herself to examine them more carefully. A mixture of boots and feet. Some small, some large. Some deep into the dust, others just a slight indentation. A range of races then, she considered. Not Arlathan ancient.

She lifted her head, _I wonder if_ … “OW! You bit me!”

The cat sat in front of the chosen mirror with a smug look on its face.

Elde poked her tongue out at the beast. “Fine, let’s go. But if we end up in the ocean, you’re fish food.”

The cat stared at the woman. “Now what?” Turning towards the mirror, the cat waited. “Oh, it’s closed. How do we open it?”

Pushing her glasses back up her face Elde thought. Book, game, comic… The Masked Empire, password. “Password, password, what’s the password. Oh!” She stood in front of the mirror. “Fen’harel enansal.”

The mottled face of the mirror reviving to a brilliant silvery blue. “Way to go Wiki!” she shouted in glee, momentarily forgetting her predicament.

Without a second thought the cat bounded through the mirror, not looking back to see if its human was following.

Elde continued to hesitate. She looked back down the multitude of rows. Conformity a beautiful ideal in this place between places. Each mirror a perfect replicant of each other, save for the broken ones. 

“Oh god, I could do with a smoke right now,” she whispered.

“Here goes nothing.”


	6. Roots

Up, down, over, under.

Up, down, over under.

It had been this way for a few hours now, as Elde and her feline companion negotiated the myriad of tree roots and branches that covered the pathway. Quite grateful for the protection her boots allowed her feet, she had managed to average tripping every few minutes over wood, stone, even a nug at one point. The velvet black creature scampering with ease over the obstructing flora away from the massive boot that threatened to land upon it.

“Creepy handed critter,” Elde muttered as she crawled over another tree root.

The pair had exited the Eluvian to find themselves surrounded by an ancient forest. Thick brown trunks dominated the landscape, the width of their base betraying their age. Towering above, the canopy of lush emerald leaves blanketed the sky, leaving only small patches of blue for the sun to shine through.

A pathway of huge slabs of grey stone, arranged in a herringbone pattern and hemmed by smaller red stones led away from the great mirror. It was on this that Elde was struggling to negotiate the raised pavers.

After a while the forest began to thin out. More light was making its way through to the forest floor, and as a result, smaller shrubs became prevalent. A splash of colours danced their way from flower to flower. Insects humming their approval at the change in foliage went about their busy short lives. Above, birds chirped and sang. And below the local nug population scurried and scampered. Elde was just happy that the roots of the trees were growing down and not across the ground. She had managed to avoid tripping for a while now and was ballooning her average out to around five minutes.

“Hey cat,” she called. The cat gave no indication that it had any inclination to reply. Undeterred Elde continued. “Do you think we are in Arlathan Forest?” She frowned up at the trees and twirled as she walked. “Or maybe we are in the Arbor Wilds?” She stumbled over an upturned paver, righted herself and continued. “Nah, that one has those big purple birds doesn’t it?” The feline was walking well ahead, tail in the air. “What about the Brecillian Forest?” A drop of sweat travelled down her brow. Wiping it away with the back of her grubby hand she looked up at the sky and sighed. “Nope, it is colder there isn’t it?”

Miaowlessa continued her trajectory, ignoring the woman. Elde pushed her glasses back up her nose, “Well OK then. Arlathan it is… I think.” They walked on in relative silence. Elde tripping over every five minutes or so, her curses the only words spoken in a cacophony of bird calls and nug chitters.

It wasn’t long after her futile conversation with the cat that Elde noticed that the path was changing. Either side, columns of white stone were appearing, towering over the path like silent sentinels. The further they got, the columns became more frequent, until they were every few steps. _I wonder where this is leading to?_ she thought. _If this Arlathan Forest, then these are the remains of Arlathan itself, and by the look of these columns, means wherever we are heading has some significance_. 

Elde was not disappointed. The columns suddenly gave way to a large amphitheatre. Well, it would have been back in the day, but now the stone stairs were mottled with shrubs and nug burrows, which was fortunate as on the stage was an elf and a creature disfigured by time and corruption.

“Oh god,” she whispered and scooted behind a large bush. Her heart began palpitating. “Oh god,” she whispered again. Hands began to shake, with the surge of adrenaline, hearing became sharp and her eyes focused. Carefully she peered through a particularly sparse part of the foliage.

“Oh god, indeed,” she blinked in disbelief.

The stage was empty, except for the two figures. In the hand of one was an orb, glowing green with a familiar power. Elde, watched in stunned silence, as the pair parleyed. Unable to understand their language, she still had some idea of what was being said. _Oh, god I need a cigarette_.  Her heart was still thumping within her chest, keeping a beat that she could focus on. Slowly, her breathing also fell in line with her pulse. _What do I do?_ she lamented. _Can I stop them?_ She looked over at the ancient beings again. _Hell no, they would kill me on sight wouldn’t they_.

The ancient elf was not happy with his course of action, but really, he had no other choice. Waiting for his powers to recover enough for him to open the orb and access the remainder of his true power could take decades, centuries even. And he was not willing to wait that long. This world was a disappointing facsimile of the glorious world he had left.

_Destroyed_ , he corrected himself.

He had destroyed it, for what end? This? No, he had to make it right again, this could not be the legacy of the elvhen peoples. His pride would not allow him.

The creature had left some time ago, leaving him alone on the ancient stage. He remembered this place from his youth. The grandeur of the theatre luring many to find escape within its seats, if only for a night. The elf remembered one particular night, sitting up there. His eyes darted over the back rows, finally resting on a space his memory saw very different to what was there now. She was there. Long, curly silver hair, and piercing grey eyes.

His mind supplied the details that were long forgotten from the place. The colours of the theatre. The sounds of music lifting up towards the sky. The silks and satins swishing as people moved around. The myriad of faces his eyes had to avoid to find hers. But when they did, it was like the world never existed, just her and him.

Shaking his head, he pulled himself out of his self-pitting reverie. _Enough of that_ , he chided himself. _What’s done is done_. And with that he scanned the amphitheatre with his red eyes, turned and padded away with a swish of his black tail.


	7. Panic

“Oh god, he looked at me,” she managed through gulps of air. “Right at me, he…” Her breathing became faster and faster, no longer in control. Tremors ran up her skeleton, over and over, never abating. Her head throbbed. Each gentle sound from her surroundings was like a freight train right next to her. She felt hot as blood coursed through her veins. Sweat dripped down her brow.

 _It's too much, all too much_. She pulled at her arm wraps trying to get the woollen garments off. _I shouldn’t be here, this is just a game_. Throwing them on the ground, she tugged at her black oversized scarf. “None of this is real, it can’t be, it’s just a game,” she sobbed to the forest.

Falling to her knees, she buried her face in her hands. Tears dripped through her fingers onto her black skirt, soaking into the cotton fabric. A silky soft tail, wrapped itself over her wet face, tickling the back of her hands. Elde sniffed, and slowly uncovered her face. The Miaowlessa of Kittenmarsh was sitting in front of her on the leafy ground. Gulping down the air, the woman reached out to the cat, smoothing her hand down the soft fur. With each stroke her breathing eased, and the tremors subsided.

Time passed the cat and the woman without a second thought. Each only focused on calming the heightened emotions. When they finally moved again, the forest was dark, lit only by the stars in the sky and errant fireflies. Transfixed, Elde watched the bugs flit up and down, their luminescent backsides creating an ethereal image against the backdrop of leaves and branches.

“We don’t have these back home,” she said to the feline. The cat again, nonplussed at the woman’s mutterings continued to jump over the white stone blocks away from the amphitheatre.  “Hey, wait for me,” Elde yelled at the cat, gathering up her belongings, she stared at the moonlit boulders. A tiny black smear was travelling over them. “Miaowlessa!” she moaned, “Slow down!” The woman scrambled up and over trying to catch up to the quadruped. “Where are we going?”  The cat continued to race ahead, stopping every now and then to see if its human was following.

They continued this way until the amphitheatre was hidden behind the forest. The events of the day momentarily forgotten as cat and human trekked through the undergrowth. The night was getting darker, clouds hiding the stars. Her black cat was harder see against the shadows. It had been over an hour since they left the ancient stage, and Elde was certain they were going deeper and deeper into the forest.

The trees eventually gave way to a small clearing and the white-haired woman stopped.  She could see a small campfire on the other side. Slowing, she carefully stepped her way towards the flames. _Who is it?_ she wondered. _Is it safe?_ Not really having much choice, she called out. “Hello! Is anyone there?” She moved out of the shadows into the warm glow of the fire. A single man stood on the other side. Staff held aloft ready for trouble. Miaowlessa was already curled up on the man’s bed roll.

“Oh, there you are,” she exclaimed towards the black bundle of fur.

The man furrowed his brow in confusion and then laughed. “She is yours?” Elde nodded, “Yes, she ran off in the dark.”

She smiled at the tall man. He was slender, but strong. His feathered coat hanging off his broad shoulders. Long blonde hair was pulled back off his face with a leather thong. Her voice faltered as recognition dawned across her face.

“Anders?” she breathed.

The infamous healer frowned. Cracks of blue began to emanate from behind his eyes. “Yes, it’s me,” he said curtly. “Yes, I blew up the Chantry. Yes, Justice is still here. And no, I don’t regret bringing a system based on the perverted accounts of Andraste, to justify the debasement and abuse of mages, to its knees.”

Elde smiled at the lecture. “I have no doubt about it,” she said while pushing her glasses up her nose. Anders narrowed his eyes at the woman and waited. “What I really want to know though, is what is your favourite type of cat?”  

He recoiled in confusion. “Wha…?”

She couldn’t help but let out a giggle which turned into a yawn. Covering her mouth with her hand, she managed to form the words, “I’m sorry, it’s been a very long day.” Not worrying over whether she was safe with the spirit infused apostate, she took her cue from the sleeping feline. Dumping her slouch bag on the ground, she lay down using it as a very lumpy pillow. Not waiting for her mind to do its usual recount of the day, she was asleep before she managed to find a comfortable spot on the leaf litter.

 

Anders watched the silver haired curiosity from his perch on a fallen log. He did not hide his bewilderment at the random situation he was now in. _Is this now a thing here in Thedas?_ he asked the cosmos in general. _Beautiful women dropping into our lives from out of nowhere?_ The world was silent, is if to say ‘duh, take it where you can get it’. Anders pulled his hair band free from his overgrown mop, shaking it free. _It happened to Alistair_ , he shrugged, and then remembered. “Please don’t be like Alistair”, he whispered.  


	8. Involved

 

“You would have made a good mage, Elde,” Anders retorted. The woman just snorted in frustration. “That’s not what I am saying, and you know it,” she moaned. They had been arguing over the mage-templar issue all morning as they traipsed through the forest. “It’s just, sometimes doing nothing is better than getting involved.”

Anders momentarily stopped walking to look at the woman. “Are you suggesting that the mages should not do anything, and just take it?” His voice had an edge of etherealness, which matched the blue flecks in his eyes that threatened to overcome the warm amber.

“No!” she vehemently denied. “I’m saying for most people though; the issue does not affect them personally. So why get involved?”

It took every ounce of self-control the mage had not to allow Justice to the surface. Deep breathing, he tried again, “So you think sticking your head in the sand and ignoring obvious injustice is acceptable?”

Elde sighed. They were never going to see each other’s points of view on this. “Ok, let me put it this way,” she tried. “When I was little, I lived with my sisters and my mother. We had a huge mansion, it could have held over fifty people easily. My sisters and I wanted a pet, but Mother would not allow it.”

Anders took a ragged breath, he had an idea where this was going.

“One day Tayce, my oldest sister, found a mangy kitten on the side of the road. We all argued with what to do. Mother would never allow us to keep it, but it needed urgent care so we needed to tell an adult. We all had three choices. One, don’t tell Mother and care for it in secret. Tell Mother and accept what happens. Or leave it there for fate to catch up with it.

“Mirrin, always did as Mother commanded, so she was going to tell. Tayce though was bigger and stronger than Mirrin and had stopped her. She wanted to keep it secret. But me, what do you think I did?”

Anders watched with woman recount her story succinctly. _There is little emotion there_ , he mused. _I wonder what happened to her._ He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “I have no idea Elde.”

She side eyed him and gave a weary smile.

“I did the right thing. I took the kitten to Mother and asked for help.” The woman was blinking back tears, and the mage did not know where it was coming from. “Mother smiled and said thank you for being honest. She then called in the groundsman.”

Elde was shaking, the memory becoming too much for her. She stopped walking and turned to face her companion. “I was six years old,” she shouted at him. “Six! And the bloody groundsman snapped it’s neck right in front of me.” The six-year-old child in her dissolving into sobs, and the 28-year-old woman allowing her. She was not finished though, through her tear-filled eyes, she sent the healer a glare, “Do you know what she did? Do you?”

“No Elde I don’t,” he said softly.”

“That bitch smiled at me, when the groundsman gave the kitten back to me. Smiled! It was then I knew, knew! That getting involved only got you hurt in return.”

Anders reached out and took the woman by the shoulders gently. “That was a horrible thing to have happened as a child, Elde,” he comforted. “But you are not that child anymore, you are an adult. An adult with her own power and control.” Her breathing became steady once more, as they held each other close. When they finally parted Elde gave the mage a smirk.

“You know, that is the first time I have ever called my mother a bitch,” she giggled.

The man sniggered in response, “Really? After killing a kitten, I would have been calling her a whole lot more.”

 

The first rays of sun managed to find their way through the dense canopy of emerald leaves to land on the glossy black feathers. Shining blue in the light, each rachis stood out from the numerous barbs that protruded from it. _Such detail_ , Elde thought lackadaisically. _I wonder what it feels like?_ Reaching out her grubby hand, her fingertips slipped over the delicate plumage.

“Don’t touch the feathers!”

Snatching her hand back, she sat up abruptly. The raven had jumped away and was now perching on the fallen log, Anders was siting on last night. “Oh! I’m sorry,” she blurted out. The bird clacked its wicked looking beak. “I thought you were… well, something else.”

“Something else, something else,” another raven mimicked the woman. Swivelling her head around, Elde found the source of the mocking. Another large black raven was perched on a branch overhanging the small camp site. “You, are something else,” it challenged.

The woman desperately looked around for her companions, her search coming up with nothing. Furrowing her brow, she turned back to the birds. “What do you mean I am something else?”

A flurry of black jumped up and down on their respective perches. “Make a decision Elde,” one of them shot back at her. “Something else, something else,” the other continued to taunt.

Pushing herself off the ground, the woman stood, glaring at her abusers. “What do you mean?” she sought. The birds cackled and continued their dance. “Something else, something else!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she shouted, frustration brewing. The birds suddenly stood still. “Thought and memory, we are,” they crowed. “Thought and memory, but you are something else.”

The raven on the branch began its ludicrous dance again. “Something else, something else.” The other ignored its brother and stared straight at Elde. Small beady eyes, as dark as the night bore holes into her. “You need to make a decision, Elde Norn, for yours are the way fate will be written.”


	9. Dirty

The smell of roasted meat woke her up. You would think it would have been the hard, rocky ground she was sleeping on. Or the call of the wilderness around her. Even that she had been thrust into a computer game world and is now with an unstable apostate with a spirit stowaway. But no, her hungry stomach woke her up. To be fair, it had been at least 24 hours since she had eaten. And the roasted meat smelled good.

Groaning, she stretched her aching limbs and pushed herself off the ground. “Morning,” she muttered to the healer. Anders chuckled, “Your hair…” he indicated with his hand several places on his own head. “Huh?” her mind was still waking up. Anders smiled and walked over to her, “Here…” his voice was kind. _Just like the game_ , Elde thought. Picking at several errant leaves, the man’s long fingers looped a lock of hair as he untangled it. Slowly he drew his hand back and brought the offending foliage around so she could see. “Oh, thanks,” she glanced back at his amber eyes not catching the question in them. Smirking, Anders turned back to his cooking.

“What did you catch?” Elde asked innocently. “Nothing,” he said. “This bounty was courtesy of your cat.”

She furrowed her brow and tilted her head in thought, “My cat?”

Anders gave another of his warm chuckles, “Yes, your cat. Quite the hunter this one.” He motioned to several other rabbits the feline had caught and brought back for her humans. “Wow, at least now I know we won’t starve out here,” she said impressed at the bounty.

“No, we won’t,” Anders said carefully. “Speaking of which, what are you doing out here?”

 _Oh, there it is_ , she contemplated. _How do I manage this now?_ Elde opened and closed her mouth several times as she attempted to form an explanation for why a woman and a cat was wandering around a previously uninhabited forest. He handed her a skewer of rabbit, took another for himself and waited for an answer.

“Well,” she said carefully and with purpose. “We came through the Eluvian deeper in the forest.”

Anders nodded, accepting the answer, but not completely satisfied. “And before that?”

Elde blinked and took a deep breath. _The truth is in the telling_ , she decided. “Another world.” She waited for her words to sink in. The black cat decided now was time to make an appearance and smooched her legs. Bending over to pet the creature, she missed the frantic internal argument Anders was having with Justice. Finally, the spirit took control of the mortal.

WHICH WORLD?

Elde startled, she was not expecting the quiet spirit. She answered, “Earth.” The spirit returned to muttering with his host before again returning.

DO YOU HAVE SISTERS?

She gave the spirit/man a quizzical look, “Yes, why do you want to know that?”

HOW MANY?

The silver-haired woman relayed her family situation to Justice and waited for his response. None came.

“Um, sorry about that,” apologised Anders. “Not sure what he was on about, but either way, he is happy to have you here.” Shrugging Elde dismissed Anders concern. “No harm done, though I would like to know his reason for his questions.”

The man checked the temperature of the cooling breakfast. Scrunching his nose up but still pulling a piece off the carcass, “Me too, but it won’t be forthcoming today, at least.” Popping the meat in his mouth, he was quiet for a little while.

Elde followed Anders’ example and began to eat her rabbit, giving Miaowlessa pieces every now and then.

“So… different world huh.” He finally contributed to the conversation. The woman nodded and explained how she and the cat managed to be in Thedas. Anders listened with interest, clarifying a few key pieces of information. “Have you wondered about why you are here Elde?” the mage asked.

She gave a nervous giggle, “In all honesty, I haven’t had the chance to yet.” He threw the stripped carcass back onto the flames. “You said Xenon was expecting you. Doesn’t that peak your interest at all?”

Dropping her rabbit on the ground for the cat to finish, she leaned back against a tree stump, and sighed. In truth, she was curious as to why the antiquarian knew of her and her sisters. _That never boded well for a MGIT_. Slowly she brought her thoughts together.

“I am, but I know nothing of this world, or how to survive. I know this is the calm before the proverbial storm, but I am not suited to that hero stuff. I just need to find a quiet town to stay in. Learn something that will get me by and wait until I find out how to go home again.”

Anders narrowed his eyes at the woman and frowned. “You are very different to your sister,” his voice deadpanned. She lifted her head to look at him, “How do you know my sisters?” Wiping his hands on his ratty robes, he stood up. “Sister. Tayce.” He turned back to his bed roll and began to gather up his belongings. “The calm before the storm, you said. Tayce said something similar when I met her in Kirkwall.” He did not look back at Elde as he packed. “Never backed down from a fight, that one. Always met it head on.”

Elde chuckled, “Yea, she’s always been like that.” At that Anders did look back at her. His gaze was hard and discerning. “Hawke asked her once, why she thought Kirkwall was her responsibility. You know what she said?”

The woman shook her head, silver curls bouncing around her pale face. “No, of course you don’t. She said someone famous from your world said this:

_“Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.”_

Heat travelled up her neck, and over her face. “Are you telling me off for wanting to be safe? For not getting involved in something that does not concern me?” Her voice was accusatory.

Anders, frustrated threw the last items in a large canvas bag. “You are a coward, Elde. You have allowed your childhood to taint the way you exist in the world. So concerned with being judged for living you have forgotten what it means to live. Why we live.”

She stood there flabbergasted at the dressing down. “Don’t look at me like that woman,” Anders yelled. “You know I am right.”

Finally finding her voice, she threw her own barbs back. “Has the Circle not tainted the way you view the world as well Anders? Hasn’t your quest for justice cost the lives of many innocent people?”

The anger of the man dissipated, leaving only sadness. “Yes, it has,” he answered. “But at least I made my choice and followed it through. Right or wrong.”

Elde scoffed at the confession. “So, it doesn’t matter if you are good or evil, just as long as you are doing something?”

“No! That is not what I am saying,” frustration evident in his voice. “I made a stand against the Chantry because of the atrocities it was committing.” He sighed and turned fully towards the woman. “When you clean something up, the cloth that you used will always end up dirty in the end.”

 “And what if I don’t want to be that cloth Anders?” she spat at him. “What if I want to be left alone, safe in my own space, away from everyone that can hurt me?”

His eyes flashed blue. A deep voice took over from Anders usual tone.

WHAT YOUR MOTHER DID WAS UNJUST. BUT SO IS INACTING WHEN YOU HAVE THE ABILITY TO ACT.

Elde dragged herself up from her stump. Rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air. “Looks like I can’t win today,” she snarked.


	10. Memory

They had come to a fork in the road. “Oh, this isn’t symbolic at all,” Elde muttered to herself. Anders just chuckled and shrugged. “Which way?” he asked. “The path of least resistance, or the path less travelled?”

“I hate you right now, you snarky mage,” she mocked.

His chuckle became a laugh, “Oh, come on Elde,” he placated, his shoulders still bouncing with mirth. “You gotta admit it is a bit dramatic.”

The woman shot him a dirty look, “Not as dramatic as those stupid feathers on your shoulders.”

Feigning offense, the healer held his hand over his heart. “You wound me my Lady. My spaulders will never be the same.”

Shaking her head, she smiled up at the tall man. “You are silly, Anders.”

He chuckled and pointed to one way. “That way is Treviso.” He hefted his pack up on his back and they set off again.

The walk to the sea side town was not unpleasant. Arlathan Forest gave way to rolling hills, lush countryside, warm nights, and a dry wind. “Reminds me of home,” she had said after a particularly long day.

The mage was fiddling around with the fire. The twigs and logs they had collected were still damp from an earlier shower of rain. Giving up on getting it to light in the ‘non-magical’ way, he flicked his wrist and the wood ignited instantly.

“Wow, that is still awesome,” Elde’s astonishment plain to see. Anders had been using his magic on occasion as they walked. Light orbs when it was dark. A lightning strike to take down a ram. Healing for her aching feet. The woman shivered, her inner fangirl coming to the surface each time. For his part, the healer just smiled. It had been a long time, if at all since his abilities were revered.

“Tell me about your home,” he asked as he sat down on a rock. Giving him a pained look, the woman shook her head. “There is not much to tell,” she said quietly. They had gone through all the non-personal questions about her world previously. Now all that was left was to talk about herself.

“I highly doubt that,” he gently pushed. “I know your sister, and she was one interesting woman.”

Her mind began to wander.

Tayce was always the one they remembered. Her fire and quick wit making her memorable. Mirrin too, was always remembered, but she was known for her coy smile and gentle nature. Elde though…

 

_She was seventeen, graduating high school. Being the diligent student, her marks had put her in range for being the valedictorian of her year. She had already been accepted to one of the most prestigious universities in the state, already completing the first-year course work during her senior years at high school. This extra recognition will score her a scholarship for a hefty sum._

_The class took position on the stage. Their families all watching with anticipation in the audience. The hot stage lights, making it hard to see where her family was, Elde searched the multitude of faces._

_One by one, they crossed the stage as their names were called. One by one they were declared graduated. Finally, when the last student had stepped off the stage attention was called to the announcement Elde was waiting for._

_A cheer and a groan went up. Everyone expected the answer, it would have been a shock if another name was called. The night finished up and the young woman was released back to her family._

_She rushed as quickly as she could in her heels to the atrium. Scanning the crowd for a sign of her mother and sisters. Up and down the long hall ways she went. Over and over again. Slowly the crowd dissipated. Leaving Elde to clearly see._

_Her mother’s driver was waiting impatiently at the door. He tapped his watch and started to leave._

_She caught up with the surly man, “Where is Mother?” she asked._

_He sighed. Bored. “Hurry up, I have more important places to be tonight.”_

_His words turned her to ice._

_Elde knew._

 

“I’m a nobody,” she said.

The healer was expecting this answer. Everything the woman had revealed pointed to this. “That’s not true Elde,” he pushed again. “I am sure there is som…”

“Enough!” she all but yelled. “Why do you insist on pushing me to be something I am not.” Her voice was laced with malice and pain. “Why can’t you accept that I am nothing! Empty! Forgotten!”

He moved from where he was sitting, to sit beside her. “Because you are none of those things.” His quiet voice a comfort against her turmoil. “You are so much like the mages it’s not funny Elde.” That earnt him a withering glare. Ignoring it he continued. “So, intent on not being seen, you think it keeps you safe.”

“It has so far,” she mumbled.

“Until it doesn’t, and then what?”

Elde was silent. She didn’t know.

“Start small,” he coaxed. The woman looked at him quizzically. “You said something big was going to happen. Don’t worry about that,” he explained. “Worry about something small, one person, one place, one event. And make a change there.”

He was right. She could do that. And she could start now. _Stupid crows_ , she huffed. _Make a decision they said_.

“Anders,” she started slowly.

“Yes, dear?”

“You need to find an Avvar clan.” The confusion on his face was plain to see. “To teach their mages, they merge with a spirit. When they have finished their training, they release the spirit back into the fade.”

Understanding crossed his face. “That is a good idea Elde.” He wrapped his arms around her sturdy frame, “Thank you,” he whispered into her dusty hair.

Stiff at first, she slowly warmed up to his affection. “Your welcome.” After a while they parted but still sat close together, warming themselves by the fire.

“Anders?”

“Mhm?”

“Can we not have these deep and meaningful conversations anymore?”

 

_The driver took off as soon as she shut the car door. The crunch of stones under its black tires the only noise surrounding the mansion. The young woman carefully walked up the stone steps, to the oversized front door. Opening it, she slipped in without a sound._

_Mother was in her burgundy chair._

_Her heels silent on the parquetry floor, Elde made her way up to her quarters. In the dark she kicked her shoes off and put her bag on her desk. Padding her way over to her shelves, she slid the coveted trophy into its new home, alongside all the other forgotten and unrecognised awards she had received over the years._


	11. Chantry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff.

The low rumble of people going about their lives tumbled over the surrounding pastures around the seaside town of Treviso. After having been only in the company of one other for several weeks, the thought of having hundreds of people around her was setting Elde’s nerves on edge. Anders noted the change. Conversations were cut short. Her arms wrapped around her more often. The stolen glances gone, replaced by a focused stare.

Stopping at the outskirts of the town, Anders grabbed her shoulders gently and turned her to face him. Pulled from her concentration, she frowned at the man. “We haven’t talked about what you want to do now,” he said.

Pushing her dirty glasses back up her nose, she stammered, “What do you mean?”

He looked at her expectantly. “Where you need to go now,” he explained, his emphasis on ‘need’. “I know some of your secrets Elde Norn. Your sister told me about a few things.” He left the implications of what for the silver-haired woman to ponder.

Breathing in deeply, and letting it out in a solitary exhale, she squared her shoulders and held her head high. “You think I should go to Haven,” she said dryly.

“Yes,” he simply said.

 

It took a few days, but the pair had prepared themselves for the next stretch of their journey. The mage had requisitioned a berth on a merchant’s ship for the young woman, making sure that the Miaowless of Kittenmarsh would be allowed on board. When that was completed he and Elde had managed to barter their way into a few new outfits for the young woman.

“It’s not that I don’t like your… your… what did you call it again?”

“Dark Mori.”

“Yeah, that’s it love, your dark mori look. Its just that…” he gestured down with his hand. “It’s getting really tatty.”

He was right. Her clothes were looking really bad, not used to the constant use they had frayed at the edges and the black was bleaching out to a yellowy brown, taking her dark mori look and turning them into a post-apocalyptic ensemble.

“Ok, but I’m keeping my boots.” She stuck her foot out for emphasis. Her black, 16-hole Docs’ still looking good after all the walking she had done.

“Agreed.” Handing her a pile of items and shoving her towards a makeshift change room.    

Piece by piece she hefted them over the railing of the curtain, only to have them replaced. She could hear his mutterings with the shop owner about what they would keep and what they wouldn’t.

A tinkle of coins, and a quick ‘hurry up and put this on’ indicated they were done shopping.

Now all that was left to do was board the ship.  

“So where will we dock when we get to Ferelden?” Elde asked Anders. Giving her a lazy smile, the man answered. “You will go through the River Dane to get to Lake Calenhad. From there you will sail to Riverport and disembark.”

She frowned as she listened to his recount of the trip.

“Anders,” she said carefully. “You said it like it was only me going to Ferelden.”  

“That’s because it is, love.”

Grabbing his arm, she rounded on him. “Why? You can’t leave me alone to do this?” she moaned.

Patting her on the hand that was holding him, he gave her a pitying look. “You will be fine, Elde,” his voice was smooth and calm. It was pissing her off.

“No, it won’t,” she insisted. “I barely know this world, and you want me to traipse my way through a whole bloody country on my own?” She was agitated. _How can he begin to think I can do this alone_? His calm demeanour did nothing to abate the panic that was threatening to over take her.

“Elde,” he started.

“No, Anders!” she bellowed. “You can’t.”

Pulling her into a warm embrace, he murmured into her hair.  “I can’t go with you to Ferelden, love. After Kirkwall, well. It just would not be for the best.”

Her breathing hitched and she let out a slow but deliberate sigh _. Of course, he couldn’t go_. “Ok Anders I understand. After blowing up the Chantry you would have every man and his dog after you in the Free Marches and Ferelden.”

Blue raced over his limbs, making the air crackle. Elde jumped back, startled at the display. As quickly as it had come, it went. “Sorry about that,” he apologised bashfully. “Tayce did say there would be some side effects as the timelines readjusted.”

Running her finger tips over his bare arm, she played with the static that made his hair stand on end. “What do you mean, timelines readjusted?”

The man shook the remaining sprites from his body and stretched his limbs. “I can’t really say,” he shrugged. “She didn’t explain what was meant to happen. Only that there were events that were set points in time.”

Elde folded her arms across her body and gave the man a pointed look examining mentally what she was being told. “You mean events that have to happen, just how they happen can change?”

“Yea, something like that.”

“Hmm,” she vocalised her thoughts. “That must mean there are something that can be changed. And me being here means things will change. Just that there are some events will always happen. But the consequences could be abated…” she trailed off.

Waiting patiently, the mage smirked at the woman. “What does that all mean love?”

Pulling herself out of her reverie, she glared at the man. “It means I’m here for a reason. I just don’t know what that is. Did Tayce say anything else?”

Anders shook his head. “Very well,” she sighed. “Thrown into a world, to change it, but not, with only the things I can carry and a cat.” She stared up at the sky. “That’s not screwed up at all.”

He pulled back and let her go. “You will be ok, love. You will see. Next time we meet you will be unrecognisable to the woman you are now.” He reached down and picked up the two large packs; the appropriated pack from Xenon and another for her camping gear. She took them without hesitation, the weight no issue for her tall and sturdy frame.

Elde stepped up the gangplank. Her arms full of items. Her head full of thoughts _. This will not end well_.

“MRAOW!” her feline companion argued as she tried to wiggle her way around the bags.

“Thanks puss,” she drawled while adjusting the packs for the cat. “That was a very important point you just made.”

Leaning against the railing, she watched as Anders waved up at her. Suddenly, he jumped up and down.

“Elde! Elde!” he shouted.

The woman waved back, “What!”

“You said that I blew up the Chantry.”

“Ok, so what?”

“I didn’t blow up the Chantry!’”

 _Anders didn’t blow up the chantry…_ she pushed herself off the railing, her mind racing to find the threads of consequence that would affect the world. Then she realised something.

“Then why can’t you go with me now!” she yelled back at him, but he had already disappeared into the crowd.


	12. Arrows

Seline and Satina lit up the night sky. Reflected off the surface of the undulating waves, their light illuminated the deck of the merchant ship. High in the rigging a single man sat. His inky black leathers would have melted into the shadows, if not for the silver steel armour adorning his arms and legs. Glinting in the moonlight, the armour whispered of death and secrets. Hiding behind a mask shaped like a crow skull, the man watched and waited. His quarry was not tardy, sticking to a routine that was predictable as day and night.

First was the cat. Her lithe ebony body slinked up the stairs to the deck. Staying in the shadows the feline skirted around the main deck. Having spent the day below, the cat had her fill of ship rats and was searching for something decidedly aquatic to eat. Dropping several dead baitfish, the man smiled under his mask as the small cat pounced them as they bounced across the old wooden boards.

Next came the woman. Tall and curvy, she moved with little grace and finesse, but still had managed to evade the man’s keen eye. She was already at the steps to the forecastle when he had noticed her silver hair sway in the ocean breeze. Her steps caused no sound as she walked up to the fore of the ship. Leaning over smooth wooden railing, she lifted her arms and felt the chill of the night air against her pale skin. Her cotton blouse billowed around her, letting light through the thin fabric. Her ample curves highlighted against the velvet night…

“Brasca, you fool,” he cursed himself. 

 

Swiftly turning her head to the sounds above, Elde caught a glimpse of the grotesque crow mask. The man had haunted her nightly stroll ever since they had docked in Antiva City to take on more goods for Ferelden. She was pretty sure it was Zevran, however knowing the stories about the Crows she was not ready to call it certain just yet. Instead she hurried back down to the main deck, and readied the archery target the merchant sailors used for practice.

The sailors had lent her a basic short bow and a quiver of arrows, warning her not to miss the target or her arrows will end up in the drink. _Nothing like a bit of gentle persuasion._ As it was, she started with fifty arrows and was now down to thirty two. Most of them being lost on the first night of practise. Donning her arm guard, she shouldered her quiver and quickly buckled the necessary buckles to keep it steady against her back.

She nocked an arrow and raised the roughhewn bow. Good for small distances and enclosed spaces, the short bow was versatile and deadly. Taking aim at the pitted object, she steadied her breathing. Pulling back the bow string in a smooth motion, she held it against her cheek. Her movements were concise and methodical as she held her position. The air stilled around her, the waves slowed becoming like cooled honey.

 

The world had stopped.

 

Zevran was still watching the woman in awe of the power she was now exerting around her. Reaching out to touch a sail, it rippled from his movements, slowly returning to it’s previous position. He was so entranced by the way the fabric still held its shape with the wind behind it, even though there was no breeze, he did not see the woman turn and aim her weapon at the Crow.

THUNK!

An arrow embedded itself in the yard he was sitting on.

TINK!

Another ricocheted off his mask, dislodging it from his face.

SHCHLINK!

The force of the arrow sinking into his shoulder threw his balance. Slipping off the damp wooden beam, he fell back down the rigging. Hands flailing against the rough ropes, he grabbed any with his hands. The shock of suddenly stopping his downward journey jerked his injured shoulder. The barbed arrow knocking deeper into the meat. Pain shot up and down his arm, causing him to let go.

THUD!

He landed in a crumpled heap of black leather and warped steel tinged with hot crimson blood. Groaning he used his good arm to prop himself up. Coming face to face with black boots, he slowly allowed his gaze to wander up the long thick legs, over the wide hips and small waist. Spending time on her voluptuous chest and strong shoulders, he finally let his eyes reach hers.

They were not amused.

“You are getting quite good with the bow,” he attempted to placate the storm behind her light grey eyes. She aimed another arrow, straight at his face. “Ah, where’s the sport in that, my dear?” She pulled the arrow back further. “Ok, I see. Not quite as forgiving as your lovely sister.”

Cocking her head to one side, she growled. “Take it off.”

The elf grabbed the beak of his mask and pulled, wincing as his injured arm hammered it’s dissenting opinion about moving.  

Taking the arrow from the bow, she used it to slowly lift the black leather hood. Blonde locks tumbled out, shining in the moonlight.

He contorted his body to face her. The slash of black ink across his cheek revealing her suspicions. Raising one eyebrow, she held the man’s gaze.

 

“My Lady, we heard a commotion. Are you alright?” several sailors had come topside, curious as to the nature of the very loud thumps they had heard. Shaking away the last of her resolve, Elde muttered a conciliatory explanation for the loud noises. Looking between the woman and the elf, the sailors were not quite sure they wanted to get involved. The woman was quite capable of defending herself with a bow, they had found out, and the man… he was something else altogether.

Backing away slowly, they still glanced between the pair. “Well… if you need assistance, My Lady, we are not far away…” their courtesy implying the woman was not alone.

When they were the only people left on deck, the elf began to gather himself up. Laughing he rolled his shoulders, only to have a sharp pain emanate again from where her arrow had hit him. “Ugh! I quite forgot about that,” he groaned. “Having too much fun.” His smile dazzling against the black of his cloak. He glanced around the deck, only to find it empty.

“How does she do that?” he questioned the black cat that was watching him from the shadows. Flicking her tail, the Miaowlessa gave the elf a slow blink before she followed her human back below deck.  


	13. Disarmed

“Well, my dear. I was not expecting you to shoot me out of the sky like you did,” his heavily accented voice purred. Dark eyes searched her own as she worked the shaft out of his shoulder. A sharp hiss of air was the only complaint the elf had made about her shooting him.

“You’re an assassin, Zevran,” Elde said dryly. Finally meeting his gaze, she added, “Kill or be killed, right?”

Carefree laughter filled the small cabin. “Quite right, my dear, quite right.” Grabbing the bed post, the elf steeled himself for the final extrusion of the arrow. “I must say, you are getting quite the shot on you.” From behind blonde locks, he smirked as she scoffed, her cheeks tinged red at the compliment.

“Still took me three shots to hit you.” Pulling at the wooden shaft, she could not help but grimace at how much flesh was being ripped off with the small barbs on the arrowhead.

Paling, Zevran dipped his head. Sweat gathered at his hair line, to drip in long lines down his face. His breathing became ragged as he tried to ignore the pain.

“Sorry,” the woman murmured at him.

Forcing a smile between his perfect lips, he tilted his head so he could see her. “It is but a scratch, my dear.”

Snorting, Elde reached to her supplies, grabbing a clean cloth. Holding it against his forehead, she questioned, “Mhm, and I guess you’ll just bite my kneecaps off instead huh?”

Puzzled at her response, he made to inquire; “My dear I…” his sentence cut off by his own voice tearing out from him. His shoulder was now free of the crude projectile.

Tossing the arrow on the ground, Elde held two clean cloths to the dual wounds, soaking up any blood that had built up. After several long moments, she carefully peeled one back to check if the flow was still strong. Pleased that it wasn’t, the woman began to clean the wounds.

The elf remained stoic throughout the ordeal, only hissing every now and then when she pulled out a splinter.

“So,” she began. “Why are you on your way to Ferelden?” Her voice was nonchalant, but Zevran knew better than that. He had watched her since embarking at Antiva City, and she always took notice of everything around her.

Feeling a little nauseous with the pain, the elf took a swig of water from a nearby water skin. The cool liquid calming his rusty throat. “I will not lie, my dear. That would be of little benefit to either of us in this situation I believe.”

She rolled her eyes and cocked her hip. “Just get to the point, Zev.”

“Oh, is it Zev already? That is only allowed for my friends.”

Cocking her brow, her eyes mirrored a storm. Zevran shrunk just a little under the intensity of her gaze. “You know my sister,” she said blandly.

Chuckling, at the way she spoke or because of his nervousness in her presence, Zevran was unsure, so he just nodded. “True, my dear.  I do know your sister, Mirrin. An amazing woman, that one.” His attention faded away as he remembered her small frame, snuggled against his chest. Rose and cedar wafting up from her freshly washed hair. Silky smooth skin underneath his calloused hands. “Ahh!...” pulled from his daydream by the sting of a cleansing milk he glared up at the other sister.

So very different, this one. Taller, thicker in stature, curvier. Her movements held none of the grace that Mirrin moved with. Her voice did not command where hers did. Her eyes were that of steel and storm, whereas Mirrin’s were the blue of wildflowers. _Get a grip man, she is gone_.

Elde watched as Zevran again descend into his memories. _Must be good ones, considering that look on his face_ , she speculated. Something in her heart twinged, making itself known for the first time in her life. Not sure as to its origins or purpose, Elde ignored it.

Clearing her throat, she looked at the man expectantly. “You have not answered my initial question.”

Irritation crossed his face and bled into his voice. “Yes, yes my dear. I am well aware of that.” He shuffled in place, his back getting sore from holding himself up for her administrations. His collected demeanour slipping, he sighed heavily. Waving her away from him, he needed some space. “You being here has brought up memories I did not expect to have.”

Raising her eyebrow at him, Elde considered his words for a moment. Pushing her glasses back up her nose, she turned to busy herself elsewhere in the small space. “You cared for her,” she said over her shoulder.

Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. He couldn’t hide from this anymore. Rubbing his hand over his face he heaved a sigh. “Yes,” he whispered.

Elde nodded, that was plain to see. Slowly, she turned back to face the elf. Leaning against the wooden walls, she kept the space between them. “You love her.”

It was not a question.

It was a statement of fact.

Completely disarmed by three little words Zevran finally gave into them. Tears that were once threatening, were now flowing with abandon. His strong arms curled around his torso, holding himself whole in spite of the heartache that threatened to render him in two. “I miss her,” he whimpered through his sobs.

Totally aghast at weeping man before her, Elde was paralysed by indecision. _Er… Zevran Arianai is bawling his eyes out in my cabin because he misses my sister. That’s high on the list of things I thought I would never see._  Socially awkward at the best of times, the woman was confounded by the simplest of emotions. _What the fuck am I meant to do now?_  To be faced with someone bleeding emotion from their every pore was the stuff of her nightmares. _Oh god. What would Tayce do?_

Slowly she made her way back to the bed. Picking up the bandages and needle and thread she required to finish repairing the damage she had done to his shoulder, Elde carefully sat down next to him on the plush mattress. Laying her cool hand on his good shoulder, she waited for him to respond.

“She knew you would come,” he rasped. “She said she had weaved it in the tapestry.” His shoulders were slumped, blonde hair lank and greasy. He looked up at Elde, exhaustion clearly seen on his face. “She said you won’t ever be alone here.”

Cleaning up from bandaging the elf, Elde washed her hands in a metal basin. Wiping them dry on a damp cloth, she motioned for the man to lie down on the other side of the bed. A sly smirk crossed his tear stained face, “My dear…” he started.

“Don’t,” she finished. Shaking her head at his attempt, she gave him a wan smile, “Go to sleep Zevran. We’ll sort this out in the morning because I’m tired and you’re not making any sense right now.”


End file.
